49
The Shortest Straw
Amanda
I pace in front of the staircase, watching the front doors anxiously. She’s coming. I know it.
Sure enough, the doors open, and South walks in as if this is her house.
“You felt me coming?” She asks with a raised brow.
“Shade gave me a heads-up,” I roll my eyes. Not everything is a super mystery.
She makes a thoughtful sound and hands me a folder.
I take it and move into the meeting room, which seems to be everyone’s favorite place. I spread out all of the information on the coffee table. Land deeds and a few scattered pictures.
I feel like an absolute idiot as I space them out so each page can be seen clearly. Then I look at them without reading anything, just staring at one piece at a time.
“What are you doing?” South asks like any normal person would.
“Seeing how they feel,” I mutter, hoping she doesn’t smack me on the back of the head.
It’s South. She sits on the edge of the armchair next to the table to watch me without another word.
The more I look, the dumber I feel. This is a stupid idea. As if something is going to set off whatever alarm I have inside me. It’s fucking paper .
My eyes drop to the first page in the next row, and pressure hits my chest.
No way. No fucking way!
When I turn my attention away to the next page, it fades. As soon as I look back, it hits me again.
“I swear to God, if this bullshit is a fluke, I’m going to riot,” I mutter and set the page aside. “I’m pinning all my hopes on a damn superpower that didn’t come with instructions.”
“There is a learning curve,” South agrees.
“Shut up, Captain Clear,” I grouse without much heat.
By the end of the stack I have three pages and one picture. Each one has a varied, nauseating feeling attached to them. I move everything else to the side and put the four pieces in the center.
“Pick one,” I glance at South.
“I’m invited?” She sounds faintly surprised.
“Are you kidding? Jake is convinced I’m carrying around something that shorts out cameras. Be a good little tool and pick a date location. I’ll buy you flowers after that, too.”
She straightens as if she’s accepting a great responsibility. We’re both morons.
After some thought process about it that I’m not a part of, she picks up a page and hands it to me.
“We’ll start there. No flowers. Shade would be upset.”
I roll my eyes as she walks out and follow her.
The page is an apartment complex that’s run down and ready to be demolished. Seeing it in person as South parks the truck makes it an understatement.
It’s a row of twenty apartments in a long, straight line. Every window facing us is boarded over. Even the doors have been removed from most of them and replaced with boards. The parking lot is tight, with a bigger complex on one side and a free health center on the other. The people moving in and out of the center make me think it’s a rehab place. The amount of trash strewn everywhere would convince anyone this is the wrong place.
My chest feels like it’s caving in.
South gets out of the truck and waits for my paranoid ass to join her. I’m already sweating and clutching Jakob close.
When I start toward one of the only doors left, South raises a hand to stop me.
“What?” I whisper. Even though it’s broad daylight and there’s no one close by. The people outside don’t give a shit about us. They can’t even see us with South standing right beside me.
“Walk the perimeter. We’ll follow the feeling.”
Ok, that’s pretty smart. The more danger there is, the harder the pressure will be. And we’ll be outside to give us plenty of space to figure things out.
Or something.
We take our time walking the long line of apartments. The feeling remains steady even as we reach the end.
“What the fuck?” I grit my teeth in frustration. “No change. At all. What does that mean?”
“Let’s find out,” she says calmly and kicks down the closest boarded-up doorway.
“South,” I hiss with wide eyes. The next apartment over has a door. We could have started there. But no, we had to be dramatic.
I give a disgusted sigh and join her.
My whole body stiffens up as I take in the interior.
Outside, the place is falling apart. Inside, someone gutted out every single apartment and left one long room supported by random pillars. The wood under our feet is so fresh I can smell the pine.
“The outside is a shell,” South notes as if I can’t see it with my own eyes. She’s lucky I’m too confused to comment on it.
She paces all the way down the line while I stand in place. The space is enclosed. I glance back at the wooden piece that South kicked down so easily. It’s the only entrance I can see.
“Of course,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“You said it was underground,” she calls my attention from the other side of the long stretch.
We get busy looking for an underground hatch or a loose board. It takes hours before we call it quits.
“Not this site yet,” South nods and walks out.
It must feel good to be that sure of yourself. Or to just not give a shit about it all. I’m sure this is something that’s keeping her entertained for the day.
I try to reset the panel over the doorway and then give up. It won’t stay upright now that South cracked it down the center. By the time I get back in the truck, muttering curses under my breath, she hands me another page.
“This one.”
She sends out a text and starts driving.
“This might be pointless,” I grumble.
“It might not,” she shrugs. “Either way, you’re out of the house for a bit.”
I give her a look of disbelief but keep my mouth shut.
The next two spots are the same. More shoddy housing gutted on the inside, with the surroundings showing signs of severe poverty. The second building makes me want to heave. Dilapidated outside, the inside is set up with rooms that interconnect for the illusion of privacy. It has the same type of wallpaper the sex rooms had set up. There are shelves waiting for tools and cameras that make me sweat, pointed everywhere. The only thing saving it is the fact that it doesn’t look ready.
The third has a lot of furniture stored there: chandeliers like the one I saw at the entrance of the underground labyrinth of filth, ovens and fridges, tables, and chairs. Anything it might take to start up a new site.
I make notes of everything on the pages to keep track of what I’m seeing, just in case.
“These have been used,” I wave two pages at South as she drives to the last destination. “So what was this one for?”
It’s just after one, and I’m getting nervous about getting home before anyone else does. Did the maids suspect anything? I mean, South walked right in. Hopefully, they think I’m holed up in my room like a sulky teen.
“A place to store items as they come in.”
Her bland tone gives me a chill. I’m pretty sure she means people , not items.
The last stop is in the middle of nowhere outside the city limits. A bunch of houses set in a cul de sac that should have seemed normal. Everything has been demolished to create a high-rise apartment complex. The barest traces of the start of construction are taped off so people won’t walk in. Beams jut up from a concrete foundation without much more added.
“Different,” South says before she gets out.
“You don’t say,” I glare at her from inside the truck.
I’m sighing, bracing myself for one more fruitless search, when South waves at me.
I’m out of the truck so fast my ass should have been oiled.
“What?” I ask her in excitement.
She doesn’t answer, pointing down at the ground.
I’m too familiar with the looped handles set in the floor. A double door leading into hell.
“Shit. This is it.”
She nods and pulls the doors open, descending as if she’s immortal.
“God damn it, South,” I rage, following behind her as close as I can.
As we start down the stairs, lights come on, freezing me for a moment.
It’s exactly the same and not at the same time. The stairs aren’t carpeted. Our steps sound a lot more hollow and echo back to us. It's an eerily empty feeling despite the addition of bright lighting.
I look down the steps to the ground below. It’s concrete, not marble. This setup isn’t ready yet, but I can already tell it’s close to it.
My anger settles into cold laser focus, relaxing me as I continue down to join South at the bottom.
The concierge desk is built but not functional yet. I pass it to go through the doorway, but there isn’t a door yet.
Everything is the bare bones of what I saw before. The only thing that seems almost ready is the kitchen area. Fridges are set up and humming even though they’re empty. Ovens and stations for cooking.
The further I go, the more cold I feel. Not the doom feeling, which hasn’t changed, just memories. The blank walls flicker in my mind’s eye to be covered in wallpaper with beds blatantly displayed. There aren’t any beds here. The lights work all the way through. The drug room is empty. No counter or setup for the locked-up section. But the final room is ready. I take one look at the cages and turn around.
“No people,” South comments as she catches up with me.
I nod in agreement.
This place is too close to being completed. It needs to disappear.
“Do you have a lighter?” I ask her casually and stop in the kitchen again.
“I have a spare for emergencies in the truck,” she offers, watching me curiously.
“Go get it,” I clench my teeth and set Jakob aside to start pulling the stoves away from the wall—just far enough for me to disconnect the gas line.
By the time I’ve finished all five, the stench of gas is almost overwhelming. The vents aren’t open, so it’s building up and giving me a headache despite my flimsy shirt covering my mouth and nose. I’m coughing as I make my way up the stairs leading out.
“You stink,” South notes absently when I join her at the truck.
Out in the open air, it’s easier to breathe, but the headache and eye-watering effect are still going strong. I can’t even snark back at her. I feel like if I open my mouth, I’ll puke.
She finishes cutting an old shirt into strips with an old-fashioned straight razor that looks menacing. The ends get soaked in isopropyl alcohol from her emergency kit. I watch without comment as she paces to the open doors, lights the ends and casually tosses them down before closing the doors.
We get into the truck and sit still.
It isn’t going to work. The place is huge, and those scraps of fabric will go out long before the gas gets to it.
The feeling of doom presses harder on my chest, slowly getting heavier the longer I sit here.
“We need to go,” I say weakly, my stomach flipping all over itself. “Now.”
She starts the truck and pulls away without question. The farther we get from the site, the better I feel—until there’s a loud pop, and I catch something being flung into the air in the side mirror.
I turn to see a belch of smoke rise into the sky as the metal door lands with a clatter on the road behind us.
South glances at the rearview mirror and makes a thoughtful sound.
“It actually worked?” I gape in disbelief.
She pulls to the side as a fire truck passes us with sirens blaring.
“It isn’t destroyed, but we’ll have more time to narrow things down. I’ll take care of the other places we saw today.”
I look over to find her texting as we sit at a stoplight.
“Okay,” I give in and stare out the windshield. The amount of guilt that floods me as we approach the manor makes me feel like I’m going home to face my parents.
It’s after five. There’s no way they aren’t home and-
My phone starts ringing, making me cringe.
Jake’s name flashes up. With a wince, I answer.
“Hey.”
“What are you up to, my little imp?” Jake asks sweetly. Underneath I hear how pissed he is and turn to South helplessly. I didn’t expect to be out so long I got busted.
“Hanging out with South,” I try to sound calm.
“And when will you be home? Dinner will be done shortly.”
“I’m on my way,” I sigh.
“Amanda?”
“What?” I wait for whatever threat is about to come out with a roll of my eyes.
“Did you have fun sightseeing?”
I blink as Cade and Ace start raging in the background.
“No,” I whisper.
“Best come home quickly then,” his tone gentles. The words stop the tirade going on until silence reigns. “I’ll run you a medicinal bath and bring your dinner to you. Perfect peace for the night. Sound good?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I hang up, suddenly feeling defeated.
“It will pass,” South comments.
“How would you know,” I scoff weakly. I doubt she’s ever felt the raw emotion that comes with a loss.
Everything in me rebels at what I’ve seen today. This is too big for me to take on. Following everything else, it feels like my mind is a minefield of horrors that I’m being forced to navigate with a blindfold.
The gates are open, and the lights are blazing in the mounting darkness. It should be a horrible sight but my shoulders sag at the knowledge I’ve reached a safe haven. Oh, what a difference a day makes. South stops at the open doors where Mikael and Ace are waiting with clenched fists.
“Tell them these are off the board,” she hands me the pages back.
I nod and get out. As usual she barely waits for the door to close before she pulls away.
“Darlin’.” Ace has his arms wrapped around me before I can even turn around. “Where the fuck have you been? And why do you smell like gas?”
“These four sites aren’t usable anymore,” I hold up the pages weakly. Mikael takes them from me, but he stares at my face with concern.
“The last one was almost ready to be used. I couldn’t leave it like that.” My voice sounds weird. My head is killing me. “I want to lie down.”
“Doctor first, rakas ,” Mikael rumbles and takes me away from Ace to carry me inside.